


With Worn Rough Hands

by rufferto



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pining, Romance, slightly AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-11
Updated: 2016-04-15
Packaged: 2018-06-01 15:29:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6525829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rufferto/pseuds/rufferto
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Billy is injured and Flint volunteers to take care of him since the Doc's hands are full. Flint has a reputation among the crew. Hal tries to ensure that Billy is not among Flint's conquests.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Char7](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Char7/gifts).
  * In response to a prompt by [Char7](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Char7/pseuds/Char7) in the [pirate_prompts_2016](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/pirate_prompts_2016) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Billy falls ill or is injured. Flint cares for him and acknowledges to himself the depth of his feelings. Some angst.

Flint stood on the quarterdeck of the Walrus, a full rigged square-rigger ship with twenty-two guns. She was fast, efficient and feared for her Captain was well known as a blood thirsty buccaneer with no remorse. Her crew was focused and tight knit and Flint had already ruled them with an iron fist for years before Billy came aboard. He was a formidable man, Captain Flint. Not especially tall but broad shouldered and tightly compact. His hands were large and strong and his eyes pierced through any man’s scattered thoughts like twin daggers.  If any man could cause death with a look, it was Captain Flint.

He was also an extremely intoxicating man and Billy was well aware of that. He had a magnetic presence that made his groin ache with need. From all accounts by his ship mates, Flint was dangerous and everyone on the crew feared and respected them. He earned them profits and was crafty in battle.

Billy Bones was still a young man, eager to please and working under the first mate Randal. He was a quick learner and a good man in a fight. He knew how to use whatever he had on hand. He took to the rigging like a pro and it was one of his favorite place to hang out because he had a view of the whole deck.

“Where’s the kid?” Flint asked Gates. He didn’t even bother to ask why he was looking for Billy. Everyone on the crew had a stake in the young man’s well-being after the state in which they rescued him.

“Taking a liking to the Rigging, Randal says.” Gates gestured a thumb up top.

Sure enough, there he was. Flint frowned, “How’d he do in his first few battles?”

“He’s relentless and inspires fear due to his height and build. I hate to say it but he’s got vengeance to fuel him. I’ll be keeping an eye on him.” Gates nodded. “Why the sudden interest?” Gates eyed Flint shrewdly as he knew something of the man behind the façade. It didn’t bode well when Flint took an interest in a member of the crew.

“I saw his eyes when he killed the captain.” Flint shrugged. “Has he talked to anyone? It’s been six months since we found him. He’s filled out quite a bit.”

“Not that I know of, he spends a lot of time with Joji and Logan.”  Gates smirked and didn’t draw attention to the fact that Flint had just commented on Billy’s appearance. It was safer that way. “He’s a lot healthier, spends a lot of time working out with Joji.”

Gates watched Flint shrug and nod but he wasn’t fooled. Flint was interested in Billy. There were one or two men over the years who fancied themselves in love with Captain Flint after he’d called them to his cabin. It never ended well and it was usually up to Hal to tell them to keep their hands off of Flint. It was something the Walrus crew was too afraid to speak of and Flint was a terrible man to make an enemy. If he was interested in Billy it meant the young man was in for it. A relationship with Flint was doomed. The man ruined everyone he touched. He didn’t know of a single person who hadn’t been scarred after lusting for the man he knew as Captain James Flint.

He’d watched it happen more than he’d care to remember. For men who liked that sort of thing Flint with his red hair and fierce look was a wet dream.  Gates could spot them a mile away. They would stare, mesmerized. They would do things to get his attention. Any excuse was made to be near him. He’d heard them all. Eventually they would make it to the Captain’s cabin and they would never be the same. He didn’t kill them, really. He just used them. Eventually they would leave or die. No one ever had his attention for very long. Gates sighed and was about to go about his business when the Captain put a hand on his shoulder. “Find out if he has.” Flint said, “If he hasn’t, make him talk to someone.”

Gates grunted at the request, sighed deeply and nodded. “And?” There was always more.

Flint shrugged, “That’s all.”

Gates stared. “So you want me to find out if he’s talked to anyone for no reason other than you want to know?” He found it hard to believe but he could detect none of Flint’s usual mannerisms when he was going to require more.

Flint eyed him, annoyed. “He’s just a kid.”

“He’s passed twenty!” Gates looked indignant.

“Just find out.” Flint snapped. “Don’t look at me like that, it’s not like that.”

“Isn’t it?”

“Not this time,” Flint shook his head. He looked back at the rigging where Billy happily worked. There was something different this time. It wasn’t just a surge of lust that he felt but an urge of protectiveness. He hadn’t felt this in a long time, comfort in knowing that another person was there. He hadn’t felt attachment or need. Billy Bones was different. He was light not dark. There was an odd purity about him, something noble and righteous in spite of the blood he knew was on the young man’s hands. “Discourage him.”

Gates blinked, “What?”

“I’ve noticed him looking at me,” Flint told Gates. “Make up anything you please, but discourage him.”

Gates stared at Flint in surprise, “Well, this is a first. I’ll see what I can do.”

“Don’t see, do it.” Flint was adamant. “We need to keep someone like him on the crew. Understood?”

Gates could see the man’s reasoning. “I’ll steer him away from you.”

“Good.” Flint nodded.

And just like that, Gates noticed a change in the Captain. He didn’t pay attention to any looks sent his way from new members. He did not call anyone to his cabin. He became even more aloof and untouchable than he had been before. Gates was certain it had something to do with Billy. And as for Billy, his heart was on his sleeve. Gates had been quietly discouraging one or two times and the young man had dutifully buried his feelings. Gates wondered if this was the first honorable thing Captain James Flint had ever done. Sadly no one but him would know. From that moment on no opportunity was presented for Billy to get closer to the Captain.  Gates hoped that was the end of it.

How wrong he was.

*

Nearly a year passed them by and frustration was horrible thing. Billy had grown more into his frame and became a mass of rippled muscle and hard flesh. He commanded respect from the crew and impressed the first mate. Ever since Gates had quietly discouraged him from seeking the Captain’s attention Billy had thrown himself into life on the Walrus. He was determined to make his own mark and he’d pushed all clearly unwanted desires to the bottom of his soul. He couldn’t help but look every now and then when he had the opportunity. He was careful though. He only did it if no one could tell. Captain Flint crept into his dreams and tormented him from time to time. During the day he was no closer to that man than any other member of the crew. It hurt. He couldn’t deny that. It hurt to want a man who wanted nothing to do with you.

Everything changed one night when they faced a surprise while hunting a merchant ship they had heard about a few weeks back. Flint knew the prize was risky but she was valuable, containing coveted rare materials. It would be a good haul and would fill the men’s purses.

Billy was excited that day because they never had shares with the potential of being this high. It was his first big battle, most of the other ones they’d been in the Walrus vastly outnumbered the target. This was a gamble. Flint had hired extra men for the prize. 

When he saw Billy go down Flint’s blood had run cold with rage. The battle had been so furious and quick that he hadn’t had time to see what was happening.  There had been a large man on the merchant’s crew Billy’s height and they had fought. Out of the corner of his eye he kept seeing Billy get hit harder. They were both using their fists which in Flint’s mind was crazy, Billy could have easily grabbed a weapon. Flint was busy fighting the first mate and then the Captain and it wasn’t until he couldn’t find Billy standing that he started to panic.

“Where’s Billy?” Flint had grabbed the nearest crew member. The man had looked completely startled when the irrational Captain grabbed him. Flint vaguely remembered his name was Dobbs.

“Billy’s down, Captain.” Dobbs had responded.

Flint felt nausea pooling in his throat. He flung Dobbs out of the way and frantically searched for Billy.

Gates was kneeling down by the young man. “Take it easy, Billy, breathe.”   Gates prompted.

The big man Billy had been fighting was dead. Billy looked terrible, his nose was broken and one eye was swelled shut. One arm was lying somewhat awkwardly and since he often went into battle without his shirt, Flint could see the bruises and cuts easily. Flint knelt down and gave Gates a desperate look.

Gates looked taken aback by the ferocity of it. “He’s badly hurt, Captain. Head wound of some kind. I can’t get him to wake up but he’s breathing. The Doctor needs to look at him and fix everything else. He took quite a beating.” 

“Bring him to my Cabin, more space there.” Flint said to the surprise of the men who were going to carry Billy back to the ship. At the look on the Captain’s face they couldn’t do anything but comply.

When Billy was carried off Gates gave Flint an irritated look. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

Flint just ignored him and began to finish up business on the merchant vessel as soon as possible. He wanted to hear about Billy. He needed to hear about Billy. Deep down in his gut he knew something was wrong. Had he waited too long? He’d been trying to protect him by ignoring him.  It was better for both of them that way. The men liked Billy, they trusted him. He inspired them. He would go far. Flint didn’t want to hold him back or get in his way. That’s what he told himself, anyway. The knots in his stomach had nothing to do with worry. He wouldn’t go directly to his cabin right after they got everything aboard.

*

As soon as they were done with the prize and underway again, Flint found himself in the doorway of his own cabin. The doctor was making Billy comfortable in spite of all the blood and grime still on him from the combat.  “Is he awake?” Flint asked.

“No, it might be a while before that. He was hit pretty hard. Broken arm, fingers. I’ve set his nose and his eye will heal up in a week. He’ll need rest, Captain, and some help probably. To what extent I won’t know until he wakes up.”  He had other patients to tend to. “Thank you for having him up here, there’s plenty other wounded to deal with now. I’ll send someone to take care of him.”

“No, it’s fine. I’ll do it.” Flint said. “Just send me some water and bandages. I’ll keep an eye on him. I have some work to do, anyway.”

The doctor gave him a strange look.  “I’ll be back to check on his progress.  Send for me immediately if he wakes up or if there are any changes.”

“I know how to care for wounds.” Flint snorted.  He adopted a surly expression that generally tended to hasten most exits from his cabin. It didn’t fail to impress and he was alone with Billy.

He took a shuddering breath and poured himself some rum to calm his nerves. Billy was fine, he would be fine. He’d wake up and saunter around the ship again. He put his gun and sword on the desk and shrugged out of his jacket without even looking at the man out cold on his bed.

He couldn’t afford to care this much. It could be used against him. Billy could be used against him. There was just something about him that reminded him of… James sucked in his breath and pressed the bridge of his nose.  It was no use going there.

He put the bottle of rum down and finally looked over at the bed. Billy was laid out with his head on the pillow and James reluctantly moved closer. He was … it wasn’t beautiful exactly. He was unique. Billy had fine features, almost chiseled in a way. He reached for a cloth and dunked it in to the water. He shouldn’t have fought that monster single-handedly. Joji could have easily taken him on.  He rubbed at the war paint on Billy’s face. What would he think if he woke up and found the Captain taking care of him?

His lip was split and still bleeding a little. He was going to feel like shit as soon as he woke up. The Doc had mentioned something about bruised ribs. Flint busied himself with cleaning up the war paint and dried blood at first. He tried not to watch when the water trickled down Billy’s stomach and trailed its way over his abs.

Jesus Christ, it was warm in the room already.  Flint felt his cock twitch as he followed the trail of a water droplet all the way down Billy’s belly. The doc had put Billy’s arm in a sling and bandaged his fingers. Once he was done cleaning off the paint, dirt and dried blood Flint had nothing more to do but wait. He went back to his desk and tried to pull out some things to work on.

Thirty minutes later he sighed. It was no use. He couldn’t concentrate when the object of his hidden desires was so close. He rose to go over to look at him again. Billy’s breathing was a little bit more even. Flint found another pillow and propped it against his wounded arm. He stared again. This was probably his only chance to memorize the young man.  “Wake up, Billy.” Flint whispered gently. He brushed his knuckles against the side of Billy’s face.

Billy shifted slightly but he didn’t wake. A sure sign he was no longer unconscious but just asleep. Flint sighed in relief. He could start to get a little work done now.

A little while later he heard Billy whimper, try to move and then cry out in pain.

Flint dropped his paperwork and was there in a few moments. “Easy, Billy, you’re badly hurt.”  The Captain stopped him from trying to get up.

Billy’s one good eye blinked blearily, “Captain? Where am I?”

“You’re back on the Walrus, we won the prize. Nothing to worry about. Just lie back down. I’ll get you some water.”  Flint told him gruffly.

“Fuck,” Billy swore as he began to realize the extent of his injuries. He took Flint’s advice and lay back down. The next question on his mind he could barely hold back. Why in the hell was in he in the Captain’s Cabin?

Flint brought over some water and helped him drink.

Billy stared at Flint, “why are YOU taking care of me?” he asked bluntly.  His head was killing him and he felt a little dizzy so he lay back down again.

“Doc’s busy. Lot of injuries. You need quiet rest.” Flint spoke as gruffly as possible to mask the relief in his tone. Billy had woken up, he was going to be okay.

“I see,” Billy closed his eye and moaned. “I feel like I got hit by a cannon.”

Flint straightened and headed to the door to call for the doc and let him know Billy had woken. “You shouldn’t have faced that with just your fists. That was foolish.” He chided Billy in a mild tone.

“I’ll try to remember that next time when his fist is colliding with my face.” Billy retorted snidely. He tried to sit up again but groaned in pain. His ribs were killing him.

“Don’t’ try and get up,” Flint warned. He told someone to go fetch the doctor and poured some rum for Billy. It always worked to dull the pain for him. “How’s your head?”

“It feels like someone’s driving nails into the back of my skull.” Billy grumpled. It felt surreal, hearing the Captain ask him these types of questions. Flint hadn’t ever paid any attention to him before. Flint barely recognized his existence. The desire he had for his Captain had never diminished it had only become easier to bury. How the heck was he going to keep it buried when the Captain was right there and speaking kindly?

“Just take it easy.” Flint said softly. “Doc said you could pass out again if you try and do anything too quickly.”   

Eventually the Doctor came to check Billy over. “He’ll be fine but he’ll need to keep lying down for at about a week.” He brought some salve and ointment for the wounds. “He needs peace and quiet for at least two days. That shouldn’t be a problem since we’re headed back home. I hate to ask you this, Captain but can he stay here? It can get very noisy below.”

“He’s fine here,” Flint nodded.

“Don’t I get a vote?” Billy wondered.

“Thank you, Captain.”  The Doc finished with his work and headed back below leaving the two of them alone again. “Cook will be up with food later.”

“We’ll be fine.” Flint assured him.  Billy wasn’t so sure, he wasn’t sure how he could remotely hope to be in the same room as Captain Flint for that long.

“You don’t even like me!” Billy blurted out as soon as the doc left. “Why are you doing this?”  He struggled again to get into a seated position. He hated lying prone on the bed, it wasn’t really all that comfortable for a man his height.

“Not true,” Flint shook his head. “You’re very well liked.”

“Now you’re deliberately being obtuse,” Billy scoffed.  It wasn’t lost on him that Flint didn’t answer the question.  He sighed and gestured for the water.  He was just beginning to feel the extent of his injuries. He uttered a surprised yelp as he tried to flex his broken fingers. 

“Easy,” Flint came over with the water.  “Would you be more comfortable if I put a bedroll and some pillows on the floor?  There’s one in the closet. I don’t usually use it.”

“I’d rather have my own hammock, actually.” Billy muttered. He didn’t want to admit it but it was a comfort to have Flint’s arm around his shoulders.  He helped Billy grasp hold of the mug with his good hand and steadied him.  A part of him wanted to sing to the heavens, but his realistic side kept him grounded and gruff. He couldn’t afford to misread Flint. Not now.

“A hammock’s no good for your injuries. Doc said you need something firm to lie on.” Flint dismissed the idea with a tight lipped shake of his head.

Billy nearly choked on the water. He could think of a firm thing to lie on, but that road led to ruin. Instead he forced a smile, which was more of a grimace really, and shoved that dangerous thought back into the ether. The ship lurched slightly and the bed swung. It caused more pain and Billy grumbled. “You’re right, Floor is probably best.”

Flint rose and laid him back down on the bed. Billy watched as the Captain straightened and went to open one of the closets on the left within range of his vision. He was surprised to see how much was stored there. He laid down the bedroll between the desk and the right hand side closet to keep it steady. It didn’t look exceedingly comfortable but the Captain had a large number of pillows and blankets as well.  Billy didn’t think he’d ever seen that many pillows in a room anywhere except at the whore house.

Flint got everything ready and looked down at his handiwork, “This will have to do.”

He helped Billy get down onto the floor and stretch out. The pillows helped and the floor was solid. The constant swinging of the bed had only added to the pain. “Much better,” Billy sighed in relief as the pressure eased.

“We should get your belt and boots off. You’ll be more comfortable.”  Flint suggested. He moved as if to help Billy with the boots at least.

“I can do it… fuck…” Billy groaned as he stupidly made an attempt to lift himself.

“If you don’t stop doing that I *am* going to resort to stronger methods.” Flint snapped. “Stay where you are.” 

Billy closed his good eye in frustration. He was lucky he was in pain, he supposed since his cock really didn’t care that Flint was too close. As for himself, Billy was too exhausted and in too much pain to resist any more. He nodded and acquiesced to Flint. He only vaguely remembered that Flint removed his belt and loosened his pants. He barely remained conscious while the Captain removed his boots and bathed his feet. Did that happen? Did he dream that? He forced his eye open because there was something. It was mad to think it. Flint was tender and sweet almost. The last thing he remembered was Flint coaxing a little food into him before he slept. He refused to believe that he’d said anything before he slept.

Flint watched grimly as Billy slept again. He’d at least eaten a little and would probably need a chamber pot later. He wasn’t sure Billy could make it to the privy.  Luckily the cabin boy had been by with a clean one. Flint knew someone was going to have to help Billy for the next day and he was resolved to do it. There was a knock on the door and Gates looked tired as he entered.

He cast his glance to the floor where Billy rested comfortably, a blanket covering him and pillows all keeping him steady. He looked from the floor to Flint. “We had a lot of injuries but we made a huge profit.” Gates had the figures but he wasn’t sure the Captain wanted to hear them.

“Its fine, he’s asleep for now. Doc gave him some kind of mixture to help with that.” Flint gestured to the desk and Gates put down the list as they both sat down.

“Are you really going to take care of him? Do you know how this looks to the rest of the crew?” Gates said under his breath. “Even if Billy has no idea, the rest of them do. You know what they’ll think.”

“It’s not like that,” Flint said grimly. “It will NEVER be like that. Not with him.”

“So you say,” Gates grunted. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you James. I don’t want you breaking the boy’s heart. Randal’s pissed off have Billy up here.”

“Reassure the men.  There’s nothing between us.” Flint said, “You can do that, right?”

“I can try, for Billy’s sake.” Gates looked towards the young man.

He wasn’t worthy of a man like Billy Bones. Of that, Flint was certain.

*

Billy woke later with a start. He wasn’t sure what time of the night it was but he was sure of one thing. He could hear Flint sleeping nearby. He looked up and noticed that the man had fallen asleep in his chair with a bottle of mostly empty rum. He tried to orient himself and remember what had happened. He didn’t have a complete recollection but he did remember a few things.  Flint had fed him, bathed his feet, Jesus. But now he needed something to drink, and badly needed to relieve himself. He glanced to the right and couldn’t help but notice the chamber pot. He knew the Captain had his own privy but wasn’t sure what the chamber pot was for.  His cheeks colored as realization sank in. It was for him. “Captain…” he called hoarsely, unsure of how to wake him. Flint continued to sleep and Billy’s words didn’t jostle him awake.  “Captain!!” Billy tried again but it was no use.  The young man tried wildly to think of a way to wake the Captain up and opted for something direct. He took one of the pillows and flung it at Flint’s head.

Flint startled awake and immediately went for his gun and dagger. It was a few moments before he realized what had just happened. When he glared down at the floor Billy noticed his eyes were bloodshot and his expression dark. “What the fuck, Billy?”

“Trying to wake you up,” Billy muttered. “Need help.”

Flint fetched the dropped pillow and brought it back. “What do you need?”

It was disconcerting to be down on the floor while Flint was standing. Billy looked away and flushed slightly. “I need to…um.”

“That’s what the fucking chamber pot is for.”  Flint growled.

“Help me up.” Billy offered his good hand. “I’m not pissing on the fucking ground, and besides, I’m using your privy.”

Flint sighed, “No need to be so dramatic.”  He reached down to help the man up.

Billy couldn’t deny how much pain rushed through him when he tried to stand up.  His ribs screamed out in agony. Flint steadied him. At least nothing was wrong with his legs. That was something. Billy tried to hold back crying out and gritted his teeth. He moved slowly with Flint’s help and they got to the Privy. 

“You going to be okay?” Flint asked.

“Leave me alone,” Billy grumbled. He was embarrassed enough. He fumbled to get his pants off once he was in and carefully did his business. Relief flooded through him. Being in pain was one thing, but this was something else entirely. When he was done he tried to reach down to pull his pants back up and unfortunately couldn’t bend enough. He tried several time before he gave up.  He’d be damned if he’d call Flint in to help him. He’d figure this out. Pain throbbed in his head and he lifted both legs up to try and fling his pants up.  He had to do it a couple of times before he could catch them with his good hand. With a sigh he staggered to his feet and yanked his pants into place.

Just in time because Flint knocked on the door with an annoyed huff, “Did you drown in there?”

Billy came out indignantly. Flint was about to speak but he didn’t want to hear a damn thing. As he moved, he didn’t quite realize he hadn’t pulled his pants up all the way and he tripped. Flint managed to catch him before he keeled over.

“Got you…” Flint grunted under his weight from behind him.

Billy had nothing to brace himself against so he had only Flint to rely on.  To his utter shame noticed his pants had once again pooled at his ankles. He was completely exposed with Flint pressed up behind him. His cock, it seemed, chose exactly that moment to ignore the pain in the rest of his body and instantly react. Flint held him under his arms and steadied him back to an upright position. Billy stood rooted to the spot, unable to look Flint in the eye, unable to move. When he was finally brave enough to raise his eyes to meet Flint’s he noticed the man wasn’t looking south, he was looking directly at Billy’s face.

Flint sighed and bent down. For a strangled moment, Billy thought…. No not possible. Not possible.  His cock obviously thought the same thing it twitched eagerly again. In any case, Flint seemed to be completely ignoring his condition. He gathered Billy’s pants and tugged them back up and over his ass. With a quick movement he tucked Billy’s cock back inside and buttoned up.

Billy groaned inwardly. Flint's fingers were like fire on Billy’s body and he wanted… good lord did he want.

“Better?” Flint commanded his attention.

“Yeah…” Billy lied hoarsely. He couldn’t meet the man’s gaze. He was going to die of shame for reacting like that. He'd just froze…  “I’m sorry,” he blurted out.

“Nothing to be sorry about.” Flint assured him. He helped Billy get comfortable again, made sure he had water and none of his stitches had burst. “How’s your head?”

“Captain…” Billy grabbed his wrist with his good hand and stared at him earnestly. He parted his lips and licked them. He couldn’t stand this, Flint being so nice and helpful.  He wasn’t himself. Billy had a sudden desperate need to find out what the heck was going on.  “Fuck. Who the hell are you?”

Flint looked at him with a pained expression. “You know who I am.” He gestured at nothing in particular.

“No, you’re not him.” Billy disagreed. “Where the fuck is Captain Flint? I have no idea who you are.”

“Would you rather I kick you or something?” Flint raised an eyebrow. “You have no idea who I am, Billy. You’ve only seen Captain Flint. It’s him you want. Not me. It’s him they all want.”

Billy couldn’t deny he was right. He had heard from the men that Captain Flint was just the persona, the evil that kept the merchant’s quaking at the sight of his flag. There was another man in there and Billy wondered if he had only just met him. “Who are you?”

“My name is James,” Flint said softly. “James McGraw.”

*TBC*


	2. chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ok that was a lot longer than I thought it would be! I hope it works for you:) You didn't ask for smut so I tried to keep the sex bits light and explicit due to healing stuff? Idk some people are weird about that.

Billy’s mouth opened and he released Flint’s wrist.  He closed it with a sigh and stared balefully at the man. It was very nearly impossible to bend without crying out in pain so Flint helped him settle back down.  He was confused and uncertain by the Captain’s response. He wasn’t sure how to react to that revelation.

“Alright?” Flint asked. “How’s your hand?” He gestured to the broken fingers.

Billy shook his head, “Hurts like a son of a bitch.”

“Maybe I can help,” Flint offered. “I know a thing or two about pressure points. Joji taught me.”

Just what he needed, Flint’s hands on his body. He was a mess of emotion and pain. That was a thing he was sure he couldn’t handle without reassurance of some kind. “James McGraw,” Billy said softly. He gazed at the Captain as though trying to find some sign of how to tell them apart.

“Captain Flint wouldn’t be helping you, Jesus Christ, Billy.” Flint snorted.

Billy nodded with a tentative smile and his eye focused on Flint’s lips. “I know something that might help make me feel better.”

Flint smirked, “Stay down and try to think of something less strenuous.” He stared fondly at the young man lying still on the pillows.  As he did he took stock of the worst of his wounds. The ribs. They were bruised and he was certain they were extremely sore. The Doc didn’t have a whole lot to numb pain. Usually liquor was the medicine du jour.

“There are rumors you take men for lovers,” Billy blurted out while under this scrutiny. It must be the pain making him loose lipped but he couldn’t help himself.  “Why not me?”

Flint frowned at the question, his fingers ghosted over Billy’s skin. “You don’t know the first thing about me, Billy. All you’ve seen is him.” He found a particular point on Billy’s hand and applied a little pressure. Billy yelped at first but soon steadied, “It’ll help the pain, just relax.”

“He’s nice to fantasize about,” Billy admitted with as best a cheeky grin that he could muster. It was a way to keep from dealing with the pain. “But you’re much more real.”

Flint gave him another look and went to work on his arm.

“I’ve heard they never last long, your lovers.”  Billy continued, “You wouldn’t have to worry about that with me. I’m not in love with you, and I’m no stranger to how it works between men.”

Flint couldn’t help but laugh, “You can barely move and you want to talk about fucking?”

“My cock doesn’t seem to care about that,” Billy lowered his good eye Flint couldn’t help but be drawn downwards. He wasn’t joking, it was still quite obviously interested. “Tell me something about James McGraw. He sounds very properly English, owwww!”  He flinched as Flint found a tender location.

Flint had him drink some rum. “Hardly, though I did try. I was a naval officer in the British Navy. Made it all the way to Lieutenant. I wasn’t born wealthy but the McGraw’s were a decent family, well connected. I was educated with a tutor. The money didn’t last and I took a commission in the Navy.  I liked it, being at Sea, though I soon began to dislike some practices. I had a lot of altercations due to my temper.”

Billy stared at him, fascinated. He forgot the pain, he just wanted to hear more. He was intrigued by Flint as a young naval officer. He knew the uniforms and tried to imagine him all cleaned up and looking perfect with his mane of hair. “I bet you were magnificent!” he whispered.

“There, now you know something about the magnificent James McGraw.”  Flint smirked. “How does your arm feel now?”

Billy glanced down at it and was surprised that when he moved it was only a dully sort of ache instead of shooting pains. “Better,” he smiled. “Thank you. Can you do anything about the ribs?”

“No,” Flint shook his head, “Doesn’t work that way.”

“You didn’t answer my question, why not me? Is it the height?” Billy frowned slightly, “I can’t do anything about that.”  He knew he was rambling a little but he couldn’t seem to keep focused.

“You’re different.” Flint explained softly, “Special. The Walrus needs you. The crew needs you. They all care about you. I don’t want to mess that up.”

“So you’d deprive us because I’m _special_?” Billy stared, “Jesus.” He scowled and reached over with his good hand to grasp Flint’s shirt. “I’m fucking offering myself to you and you’re turning me down because I’m _special_? Or is it something else?” Billy noticed he didn’t pull away. If he wasn’t feeling so much pain he’d lift himself up.

Flint gave a sharp sound of surprise and braced himself in just enough time to avoid causing further damage, “You…” too close, he was too close to Billy. Flint let out a shuddering gasp. “I’d ruin you. I didn’t want to ruin you.”

“Don’t you think that’s up to me?” Billy sighed as he twisted his fingers in Flint’s shirt. “In spite of what it looks like at the moment, I’m actually not that easy to break. He was a really big fucker.” He gave a half smile to the Captain. Through the shirt he could almost feel Flint’s skin and god he wanted to touch it. “Take your shirt off,” Billy requested gently.

Flint frowned at him. He wanted to refuse, he knew he should refuse. “Billy…”

“Please?” Billy’s voice had an intensity to it that he could not ignore.

Flint sighed and nodded. He pulled the shirt off over his head and discarded it. “Happy now?” he asked with a disgruntled look.

Billy feasted his eyes on the Captain’s exposed flesh. It was a treat he rarely got to see. Flint didn’t generally walk around half-naked, even on hot days so he didn’t have much of an idea of what he would see. The freckles made him smile and suddenly have an incredible urge to kiss every single one, god they were adorable. If he could move, he’d be doing just that regardless of what Flint said.

Flint looked somewhat grumpy about his wide-eyed staring, “You done gawking?” He moved as if to get the shirt back but Billy reached out and grasped his arm.

“No,” Billy shook his head, “Come down here.”

In spite of himself, Flint leaned down on his elbow.

Billy reached his hand up and laid it over Flint’s heart. “There’s a man in there,” Billy said softly. “A man I’d very much like to get to know.” He traced a circle around Flint’s heart and tried to stop a yawn. “If you’ll just… trust me to let me.”

Trust. It was a big request. Flint could barely keep his body under control but he knew what he had to do. “You’re tired, you should rest.”

“You should too.” Billy said as he tried to hide his disappointment, “You fell asleep in the chair.”  He let his fingers continue to rub Flint’s skin. He coughed suddenly, a thing that made his eyebrows knit together. It was a dry hacking sort of cough. He had to pull his hand away to try to contain another series of coughs that wracked his body.

“Billy?” Flint instantly shifted and helped lift him up slightly so he could rub his back.

“I don’t know…” Billy wheezed as his good hand clutched his chest.  “Feels hard to breath.”

“It’s probably your ribs,” Flint suggested.  He glanced over towards his large chest of drawers. “I think I might have something. Just try and breathe slowly.” He scrambled to his feet and left Billy for a few moments as he rummaged in one of them. There was a time long ago when he found himself with an odd allergy and Miranda had told him how to cure breathing issues resulting from injuries.  He always kept some on hand just in case. There wasn’t any time to fetch the doc. He pulled out a small chest and put it on the desk. Working quickly he grabbed a bowl and emptied a few crushed leaves into it.  He poured in some water and worked them together. Down on the floor he heard Billy coughing again and he doubled his efforts.

Once the mixture was mostly ready he could smell the balm and almost gagged at how strong it was. It would do the trick. He knelt back down with the mixture.

“It smells awful,” Billy whined as he nearly gagged on the smell.

Flint ignored him, “beats not breathing.” He dunked his fingers back into the mixture and spread it generously over Billy’s chest. “The smell will go away in a few minutes.”

“What is it?” Billy’s nose wrinkled in distaste.

“Dried up Eucalyptus is the main ingredient.” Flint explained, “And some rare plants from china.” He shrugged. “Someone made it. I don’t know all of it, just how to use it. Lean against me.”

Billy was all too happy to comply and eagerly leaned back.

Flint ran his hands up and down Billy’s shoulders in more of a clinical than a sensual way, “Just breathe, Billy. Close your eyes and breathe. Let the medicine work.”

Billy closed his eyes. Flint was warm and inviting, and almost an entirely different person. He reached down to brace himself against the man’s thigh and his head rested on Flint’s shoulder. He did as instructed and soon enough the coughing settled. Something seemed to be causing his chest to ease up and the pain to numb again. He could hear his heart beat.

“Better?” Flint asked after a while.   He maneuvered one arm under Billy and the other hand he kept free to stroke his shoulder.

Billy nodded. Better? He let out a shuddering sigh. He nuzzled his head against Flint’s neck as he decided to make the most out of this position. It might be his only chance. Tomorrow James McGraw might disappear and who knows when he’d get coaxed out again. “Sore, but I can breathe.”

“You aren’t going to let me get up, are you?” Flint gave an amused laugh.

“Nope,” Billy shook his head gently. “I think you’re wrong.”

“About?” Flint attempted to maneuver into a more comfortable position.

“Not everyone is just attracted to your persona.” Billy mumbled softly. “I like James.” He lifted his head. “I like him a lot.”

“You’re delirious from pain and medicine. You’ll forget all about this tomorrow and remember who I am.” Flint gave a pained smile.

Billy felt weak again as the strength had all but left his body. He wondered if it had something to do with the medicine he’d just inhaled. “My Captain…” he murmured.

“Your Captain,” nodded Flint as he leaned down and pressed his lips firmly against Billy’s forehead.

“James McGraw…” Billy whispered as if trying to commit it to memory. His eyes slid closed as he succumbed to his body’s needs. He was asleep a few moments later.

Flint let out a sigh. Finally. He gently eased out from behind Billy and settled him back down. He carefully made him comfortable again and as he pulled on his shirt.  A little while later there was a knock his door and Gates was allowed in. His own head throbbed a bit but that was likely because he was almost out of rum.

“How’s Billy?” Gates asked. 

“He’ll recover,” Flint gestured towards the sleeping giant.  “He’s asleep.”

“Did he wake?”

“Briefly.”

“Long enough to wash himself?” Gates eyed the man’s cleaned state shrewdly. “Captain, this is not a good idea.”

“I’m fine, Hal.” Flint glared at him.

“I wasn’t talking about you. I know you know, so let me be plain. If you take advantage of him, we’ll have a problem.” Gates warned.

“Jesus, is that what you think of me?” Flint snarled.

Gates glared right back, “Alright, alright.” He gave up first.

“I’m tired, what do you want?” Flint sighed.

Gates went in to explain their next course heading and Flint tried to listen but most of it just went in one ear and out the other. All he could think about was how worried Gates had been. He wasn’t that much of a monster. Gates eventually left and the rum was gone so all he could do was wash up.  He looked down at the young man on the floor. What he wouldn’t give to be able to just curl up next to him. How sweet that would be. He could forget about the world and what England owed him. He could bury himself into Billy Bones and that would be all the glory he needed. If he could let himself do that he could be James McGraw again.

He knew they couldn’t afford that though, he’d have to go back to being Captain Flint.  As he watched Billy sleep he slumped into a chair. “I wish I could be good for you,” Flint sighed.

*

Billy began to improve over the next couple of days and the two of them relaxed a little bit more around each other. Flint made sure he ate and walked around a bit and Billy tried to avoid topics that made him uncomfortable. Members of the crew came to visit from time to time, irritating Flint to no end.  They were going to be back in Nassau soon and Billy was healing nicely. If he was truly honest with himself, Flint knew that he wasn’t looking forward to Billy going back to sleeping with the crew.

He’d become used to the sound of his breathing.

As for Billy he was restless and pushing his bones to heal. He didn’t like being cooped up and being alone with Flint was his own personal version of hell. They had this uneasy truce when it came to mentioning anything about their feelings for each other. As soon as he was able to bend for himself, he was going back to the crew. He could not take much more of this. He was okay with letting Flint help him dress, get cleaned up but he was never going to tell anyone. Hell was having Flint’s hands on him… and not for the right reasons. Hell was Flint talking to him like he was an inconvenience. Hell was listening to Flint read and imagining him laid out naked on silk sheets begging to be fucked.

Hell was wanting a man who didn’t want to be touched. Hell was falling in love with a man who wore a persona like a mask. He didn’t know any way out of this situation and especially not while he was still dependent on Flint to get him through the worst of the healing. None of the things Flint helped him with he wanted anyone else to see. It made him ashamed just thinking about it. After this he’d owe Flint more than he really wanted to.

Today he actually ate a full dinner and felt a little better. His eye was still sore but he knew it would eventually heal. His arm would take a while, as would his fingers. His ribs ached but at least he was sitting up and could walk around.  He and Flint were eating exactly what the rest of the crew ate, no one ever got anything special. It was weird though, eating alone with him. “I um…” Billy began as he swallowed, “Thank you, for all this.”

“Don’t mention it,” Flint turned the page of one of his books.  It was his way of not being involved in conversation.

“Captain,” Billy said earnestly. He was feeling quite a bit stronger now and not quite so brain scattered as the first day.

Flint marked his place in the book he’d probably read a hundred times and closed it to look up at Billy. “What’s on your mind?”

It was like talking to a brick wall. Billy sighed. “You wouldn’t have done this for anyone else.”

Flint’s eyebrows knitted, the same way they did whenever Billy started to bring up the dangerous topic. The two of them. “Billy…”

“Hear me out!” Billy implored him. “You’ve done some things for me in the past few days I’d let no man do. You did them without hesitation and without guile. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen you be … well..” he searched for the right word, “human. You showed me James McGraw and then you’ve gone and hid him away again.”

Flint sighed, “You know how I…”

“I’m not done!” Billy interjected. “You’ve showed me in the past two days more than any man on this ship has ever seen. That means you trust me and trust me now when I say this. Whoever you are, Captain Flint or James McGraw it doesn’t matter to me.  I want you to give us a chance, admit you want to too. I need you to say something because before I walk out that door in a few days and rejoin the crew you have my full attention.”  He sighed and lifted his hands, “after that… we’ll be as we were. Or…” He licked his lips hopefully, “we’ll be something more.”

Flint looked down at the table, shoulders slumped. He knew he cared about Billy, almost too much. He just wasn’t ready to admit anything or have a relationship for that matter. He grunted at the other man’s words, “I’ll give it some thought.”

Billy sighed.  They would unload the haul at Nassau and Flint would be gone for a few days afterwards to wherever it was he went… and his one chance would be done.

*

Billy lay awake and sighed, they had pulled into Nassau and Flint had actually stayed with the ship. Flint was sleeping while Billy shifted uncomfortably on the floor. Why had he stayed? He was usually off by now on horseback somewhere in the interior but he had stayed. A lot of the crew was off the ship, at the brothel or taverns. Flint was still here. Billy hoped deep down that Flint stayed for him because he wanted to, not because he felt obligated.

Doc said it would be a good two weeks before he was healed enough to resume duties. His arm would take a much longer time to heal. His heart? That was another story. Learning about James McGraw had ensured that.

What if Flint decided that they would become lovers? Billy had fantasized about that many, many times. Billy wanted him badly but he wanted Flint to look at him like an equal, not like someone to protect. He didn’t know how to make that happen, how to show Flint he was worthy. He was at a loss. How could you get to a man like that? A man who basically closed himself off from the world, from love? A man apart from everyone. Billy desperately wanted to wrap his arms around Flint and hold him there. He wanted to protect him too, to be his shield, to stop the world from ever hurting him again all kinds of things.

It wasn’t fair that he had this opportunity to know him while he was at his weakest point. Flint had an advantage because of that. He could get away and move to the other side of the room. Flint was a master in the art of avoidance.

Billy flexed his good hand. Thinking about Flint always tended to get him hot and aroused so he decided, fuck it, he was going to take care of at least that. Flint was sleeping, after all.

He unbuttoned his trousers and slipped down his hand, with a soft sigh he pictured Flint’s mouth on his cock. Unsurprisingly that brought about an almost instant reaction to hardness. Now that he’d seen Flint shirtless he could imagine the bulging of his muscles while he did the things a man did to relieve himself. He wondered what Flint would sound like, what would his eyes look like? Would he whimper? Would his eyes be ablaze with passion? Would he be controlling or submissive or neither? He had way too much time on his hands to think of these things and his cock swelled with need.

Billy tried to keep quiet so as not to wake up the Captain. What he didn’t count on was that Flint wasn’t actually asleep.

“Billy, what the fuck are you doing?” Flint asked him softly.

When he opened his eyes he saw the Captain had propped himself up on his bed and was staring at him in disproval.

“I should think that was obvious.” Billy muttered and brazenly continued.

Flint gave a disgruntled sound and turned away furiously. He laid back down on his back and folded his arms.

“Do you want to know what I’m thinking about?” Billy couldn’t help but be intrigued by Flint’s reaction.

“No.” Flint almost snarled, “Just get it over with so I can go back to sleep.”

“You could help me?” Billy offered.

There was no response from the Captain.

“It would hurt a little less if you did.” Billy coaxed.

“Jesus Christ, don’t strain your ribs.” Flint grumbled. He stumbled to his feet. “You’re a shit.” His state of arousal was quite obvious. “And you can’t leave well enough alone.”

Billy grinned widely at the sight of him.

“Don’t look so pleased, you’re not even remotely up to anything serious.” Flint rolled his eyes. “What am I going to do with you?”  He sank down to his knees next to Billy, defeated. “This is more dangerous than you realize.”

“It’s simpler than YOU think.” Billy lifted his eyes up to Flint. “I’ll be careful if that’s what you want. I won’t tell anyone.”

Flint sighed, this was going to become a huge problem for him. Billy was impossible to say no too when he looked like that. “There are some things I have to do before we go any further than this.”  He had to tell Miranda because this was different. Billy was someone he cared about. Billy was important. She had a right to know. He pulled off his shirt and loosened his trousers.

Billy watched him hungrily, filled with a sudden intense need. “James…” he whispered softly. “We’ll do things your way.” He swallowed as the trousers slipped down and the mystery was revealed. He was for a moment at a loss for words, “God almighty.”

“No gods here, just us.” Flint told him softly. “Billy?”  He reached over and replaced Billy’s hand with his.

“Y-yeah?” Billy shuddered with need. Flint’s calloused hand on his cock nearly made him come right then and there.

“Don’t make me regret this.”  Flint lowered his head and captured Billy’s lips.  The kiss was feather light at first, just a gentle touch of the lips. He paused to gaze into the young man’s eyes.  He wanted to confess everything, to tell Billy how much he meant but he couldn’t. Not yet. One day he would. The Captain knew this was only the beginning. Billy was in his blood now and resisting him would be like resisting air.

It took a moment for Billy to realize he could touch and so he did. “Whatever you want, Captain.” Billy whispered. “It’s yours.”

Flint worried about how much power he apparently held over this man. “You’ll tell me if I go too far?” He leaned in and left a trail of kisses down Billy’s jawline to his neck.

Billy’s hand threaded in Flint’s hair. “I’ll tell you.” He rasped.

They didn’t go too far which was just as well since Billy couldn’t and yet was thoroughly enjoyed the Captain’s exploration of his body and vice versa.  He was so gentle and yet capable of such violence. Billy couldn’t equate the man James McGraw with the monster Captain Flint. When he touched Billy’s body, it was almost as if he revered it or worshiped it. Billy found he couldn’t wait until he had his strength back to love James properly.

As he fell asleep later he heard soft, gentle whisper. “My heart is yours, Billy Bones.”

Billy wasn’t sure if he had imagined it and he couldn’t summon up the strength to respond. He smiled and drifted off into happy slumber, content.

Flint smiled faintly as the young man slept. This could be his greatest weakness, this man. No one could ever know. He was sad for that because there was nothing more he wanted to do than shout it from the topsails.

He had found love again.

**FIN**


End file.
